Something More
by theglamourfades
Summary: Every time they had to say goodbye it got harder to bear, but she would never let him go completely. (Scarletvision, pre-Infinity War)


**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has read/favourited/reviewed _Something Else_, it really does mean a lot to me especially given that the Marvel/ScarletVision fandom is so huge. *hugs you all***

**I'm kind of astounded I managed to get this done before Endgame is out...it's not quite as long as the film, but still pretty epic. (maybe I went a little overboard, but I just need all of the ScarletVision fluffiness)**

**I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

_Something More_

The journey was long, made worse when it was too dark to see anything from the windows. From behind her she could hear Sam's elevated breathing, morphing into light snores. She envied him that he could go to sleep so easily, and at the same time knew that sleep would bring her no peace.

She should do something to make the time go quicker. _Read a book. Listen to some music_. No pastime appealed to her. If anything, they would only add to her deflated mood, making her think of what she lacked.

_Who._

It wouldn't have mattered anyway. She thought of him in every waking moment, yearned to be with him and not headed to the middle of nowhere. Reluctantly she did not seek out his mind, prevented herself from doing so while they were on the move, having a duty to protect the others. She'd wait until they touched down, a quick message to say that she had got there safely. She wondered what he was doing at this moment in time and whether he was thinking of her quite as intensely.

She found herself smiling in the shadows as she considered that Vizh did _everything_ intensely. She'd lost count of the times she had told him to _take it easy_ and _relax_, which was somewhat converse given that she was the one who was on the run. It was in his nature to be focused, to concentrate and put all of his energies into whatever task he was performing – or thought he was thinking – at any given moment. One of the many things she adored about him, that others might term _naivety_ but she never would.

Her smile quickly cracked, fading back to the physically painful sorrow that had pursued her since she'd had to go, with not even the chance to say a proper goodbye, not this time around.

"_Know that I am always thinking of you." _His words clear as the moment he had said them, as the sky was turning from purple to black and the stars had started to uncover themselves once more, rung in her head.

His lips brushing against her crooked fingers, in the way that always made her feel like she was going to take flight unexpectedly, unstoppably. His eyes looking up at her while he was still hunched over, dipping to her height.

"_You are the only thing that matters, Wanda."_

As the tears sprung again to her eyes her fingertips began to spark scarlet, brought on by her tumultuous emotions. It was harmless power and she found a small amount of solace in weaving the strands with her fingers in a space where she was safe, where there was no need to hide or pretend that she was someone who she was not.

She sent lines and shapes soaring into the air, aware that she was the only one there to see them. The vivid red glowed, colouring the interior. She heard Sam mumble something unintelligible in his sleep. She did not think of using her magic to influence his dreams. Instead she conjured only to amuse herself, drawing a large red 'V' over and again with her fingers.

_Know that I'm thinking of you too, Vizh._

They arrived with a jolt, causing Sam to wake abruptly. The place looked unfamiliar to Wanda, almost like a desert land stretching out for miles and miles, save for the roadside motel which they checked into hastily. The elderly man behind the desk told them he hoped they didn't mind being cosy, as there was only one room unoccupied. Cap was polite and genial as ever, thanking the man with white hair, glasses and a kindly face before he ushered the four of them along. Wanda trailed behind, arms held tightly round herself.

"Huh. He wasn't kidding," Sam remarked once they were inside the room, which housed two beds, a small sofa, a closet and not much more.

"We've found ourselves in worse places," Cap replied, throwing a glance to Nat. "It's fine as a stop-over. We'll get ourselves some sleep and head off early. We probably need to leave at four thirty if we want to get back on track."

"In the afternoon, right?" Sam ventured, though he was not mistaken. "Man, you know I need eight hours, minimum. And the jet-lag has been hitting me hard lately."

"There might be flexibility in the schedule, a few hours maybe, if we move some things around. I can't make any promises."

Sam slumped down onto one of the beds, groaning in discontent. There had been an atmosphere ever since the departure from the train station and in the confined space it found the perfect conditions to grow ever larger. She caught Cap's gaze at an unfortunate moment, and could bite her tongue no longer.

"Look, I know I'm the one to blame, so you might as well say it."

Nat dropped her eyes to the floor, arms folded. Cap's expression was pained.

Wanda knew she was right, held herself in place. She really wanted to run far away, right back to the station, though Vision would no longer be there.

"It's not about _blame_." She noticed that he chose his words carefully, diplomatic without pardoning her. "I know this situation is far from ideal, but it's the best we have. We knew what we were in for and what we're up against. It's tough, I know that."

She stayed silent, though she wanted to shout. _You have no idea_.

She was being childish. She respected Cap. She cared about them all. Without Cap, Nat and Sam – as well as Scott and Clint, thousands of miles away, both having agreed to house arrest – she didn't want to think about where she would be and in what state. They were her family, and she would not forgive herself if she led them into danger, unwitting as it would be.

"We've got to stick it out," he continued, his tone softer and accommodating, "stay together. We have a responsibility to each other."

Her head lowered. It wasn't though she had forgotten or was willing to sacrifice them. She just wanted the space for both, and the time to be her own for a little while longer than was given.

_Two days wasn't enough, not after nearly three months spent apart. Really it wasn't even that, not when his train had been delayed, meaning he hadn't got there until later in the afternoon._

_They could have all the time in the world, she thought, and it still wouldn't be enough._

"_It's not fair. You've only just got here, Vizh."_

"_It does feel like that. Next time I will try to get away for longer."_

_A burst of anger flared in her chest in the middle of the sadness. She didn't want him to feel as though he was the one at fault, having to bend all of his plans around her._

_She clung onto him in the middle of the station, her breath catching with the tears she was trying to keep at bay. She felt him stoop, his forehead pressing to hers, feeling the warmth of the spot where the Stone resided but which he had concealed from view._

"_I don't want to say goodbye," she gasped out, her hand reaching round the collar of his coat, stroking the soft hair at the nape of his neck which felt so real, "not yet."_

_She felt his expression shift, curving into a smile where she could not do the same. He did not speak but his mind said everything, and she felt the warm, loving thoughts overwhelm her. He meant them only to comfort and console her, and yet in many respects he was only making the predicament much harder to bear. _

_She had made so many promises, given her allegiance and stayed true to it, despite darkness following her apparently at every turn. Right then she wanted nothing more than to throw it all up, take Vision's hand and run away. They'd forgive her in time, she was sure, when they knew how much he meant to her._

_He always said that she was strong, but she didn't think she was strong enough to keep doing this, not when endless goodbyes were not what she wanted. Not when they left her so broken and it was only his next visit that would put her back together again._

"_Wanda."_

_She opened her eyes at the call of her name, looking into his. All she could feel in the deepest part of her heart was him and she shaped her lips into a smile, hearing his voice echoing in her head._

"_Vizh."_

_She said his name reverently, like a mantra. Like it was the only thing that truly mattered, and he was._

_It took her a minute or two to realise that he had remained silent, and he wasn't the one calling her._

"_Wanda!"_

"_What the hell?" she heard another voice – belonging to Sam – mutter._

_You have to go, he was telling her, his hands relinquishing their embrace while leaving their minds connected._

_No, she responded._

_Go. I will see you again soon._

"_No," she said aloud, as she felt Nat's arm loop around her back, whisking her further away. Away from him. The pain was ripping through her already._

_Vizh. I want to stay._

She looked up again to see Nat issuing her with the same stare as she had when they departed the station, not without some degree of compassion but it still didn't feel enough. Her heart hurt so much, honestly ached for the loss she felt.

"We have to keep our eyes open, keep moving. The smallest thing could blow our cover, without even realising it."

She didn't want to believe what was being implied, not by Cap of all people. She was willing to take the blame, but she would not let it fall another way.

"You know Vision. He would never give us away." Her voice was raising higher in her exasperation. "Don't you think he would have done so by now, if he was going to?"

The three of them remained quiet, their lack of argument proving to her that she was right. A lot of time had passed and their circumstances now made most of what had transpired meaningless. She had spent the best part of her life in the middle of a war-zone and knew better than most that nothing was ever resolved in conflict. Stark was stubborn, though, thinking that he always knew best.

In some respects, Cap was very similar.

"I'm gonna hold my hands up and say that Red's the best at staying under the radar out of all of us." Having been too tired to contribute thus far, Sam decided to throw his hat in. "It's been, what, a year that she's been running around with Stark's boy? And we didn't have a clue. You learned well, kid."

Wanda felt herself burning with the scrutiny. She wanted to keep quiet and hold her resolve but she'd been too upset, and so everything had come tumbling out after they had been discovered. To Nat, at least. She felt like she could trust her, perhaps as another woman. She knew that Nat wouldn't disclose everything but at the same time she'd had to tell the others.

It was Nat who broke the silence that had settled, addressing Cap whilst Wanda stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"It's hard on us all."

Wanda knew that Nat was referring to her; the others had been Avengers for longer, were better used to this way of life, even though she had been trying hard to keep up and learn fast.

If it had been a different day she might have felt patronised, argued that she wasn't a child. As it was, she was entirely grateful for the intervention.

"There can be room for allowances," she concluded, her eyes softly persuading as they stayed on Cap.

"I won't give him up," Wanda found the strength to speak up, rising in her with a great surge.

_Don't try telling me to._

"There have to be rules," he conceded, "though I don't like to impose them. You have to be contactable at all times; that's the most important thing."

Wanda nodded in time with Cap's words, conscious that she didn't seem as though she was mocking him. Most days she knew that she was lucky to be under his guidance, and she was today too. It just hurt all the more to be apart from Vision right now. Perhaps she would wake before the dawn and feel better, or else she would find another way to cope with the pain that sliced through her gut.

Before they settled for the night Cap revealed to them the next destination on the agenda: Italy. Sam commented with a smirk that Wanda should be sent to Verona, and she stopped herself from laughing in his face when Cap gave Florence to her instead.

The lights went out and she lay her head upon the pillow that was too soft, hearing Sam snoring in the other bed that was inches away. She closed her eyes only to open them again moments later, knowing that sleep would elude her.

Instead she cried quietly, her heart calling out for Vision and counting down the days until they were reunited again.

* * *

She drunk her coffee slowly as a distraction, at a loose end until Vision's train was due at the station. She watched people meeting on the platform – families, friends and other couples – and felt wildly jealous of all of them, even if it wouldn't be that long at all until he was there.

Vanity wasn't something that bothered her but she felt herself wanting to check herself over in a mirror. She wore her favourite shade of lipstick and tied her hair into a ponytail, the Florence heat also affecting her composure. The short-sleeved mini-dress was also a departure from her usual attire, used to being in colder climates more often than not. She tried to imagine Vizh's face flushing in his disguise and could hear him stumbling over his words as he took in her appearance, and it gave her a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. The way she looked didn't matter to him, she knew that he would feel the same way about her whatever, but it still made her happy to know that she had made a special effort for him.

A big part of her was curious about the way he would look too, and she very much hoped that he'd be less covered up than usual.

A couple of minutes before his train was due and she was too restless to sit any longer. She checked the board again, though she had memorised the platform number, and made her way there, getting caught up in the flood of arrivals from another train. She panicked slightly, wanting to be waiting for him as soon as he arrived.

Her heart beat faster the closer she got; thankfully his platform was a lot less crowded, though a great deal of people still poured out from the doors of the train. She didn't have to worry, though, given that he was so tall; she could see the blonde hair on his towering frame standing out amongst the crowd. She began to speed up her steps, breaking into a jog to meet him. The crowd of people seemed to know that their meeting was an important one, and parted to make the way to him clear for her.

She nearly pounced on him but stopped herself from jumping up and on him. Instead she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Vizh!" she exclaimed.

She had missed him so much.

"Wanda."

Her hands threaded into his hair and she beamed up at him, thinking he was more handsome than she had ever seen him, at least in his different guise. The emotions she had kept bottled up for the last two weeks were too much for her to contend with, spilling from her all at once.

She got onto the tips of her toes and met his lips with hers, pouring all of her longing for him into a single, utterly desperate kiss.

"I…Wanda," he stuttered as they pulled apart, very reluctantly on her part. His cheeks were glowing pink and he looked so adorable. "Not that I didn't…I just don't know if it's such a good idea…here."

"I can kiss my boyfriend in public," she said happily, twining their fingers together, "and I _want_ to."

She was pleased when he smiled, his eyes shining towards her. Yet she felt his hesitation to reciprocate fully, his mind reverberating loudly.

_We should be careful_.

She couldn't be mad with him, understanding his fears, though she wanted to wipe them all away.

"I know," she answered his thought aloud, smiling and hoping that she was doing a good job of soothing him, as he had done for her so much in the past. "I just can't wait until I get you alone."

He blushed more fiercely, taking on a crimson flush that was more familiar to her picture of him. She was probably coming on a little too strong, and stepped back a little, though she kept her hand in his.

"We can hang out first, though. You can watch me eat gelato."

He let out a little laugh. "Maybe I will try some for myself. I was thinking that I should, to satisfy your curiosity and my own."

"You don't have to do anything for my sake," she said, wanting to assure him.

"Oh, yes," he replied, "I know that."

He paused to smile at her, and it was the most beautiful and breathtaking sight she had ever seen.

"There was something I wanted to give you, but they may be a little damaged now."

He produced a bouquet of red and yellow flowers, the petals of a few of them indeed a little squashed by her enthusiasm on seeing him again. She took them from his hands, her heart feeling like it could burst from her chest.

"Vizh," she exclaimed, "I don't know what to say, except that they're lovely."

"You don't have to say anything, Wanda."

She smiled. "I know, but…"

Her words were promptly stolen when she felt his lips pressing against her cheek. She closed her eyes to revel in the sensation and then looked up at him, her skin tingling where he had kissed her.

It was her turn to be lost for words, though he could read her thoughts loud and clear.

"I wanted to kiss my girlfriend," he said, so simply and a little shyly.

She beamed at his words, so full of joy that she could be called that.

"I'll never complain about that, Vizh."

* * *

Florence and its heat and sunshine seemed a long way away. It had rained almost non-stop since she had got to Prague – heavy, driving rain that made it feel like the world might end, or at the very least make the sky fall in upon itself. It made sightseeing significantly less fun, having to shelter indoors to avoid the apocalyptic weather, and Wanda felt deflated on Vision's behalf, wanting to be able to truly appreciate the landscapes with him while they were here. There was also the fact that she much preferred being out of doors whenever possible, even if she had to remain ever wary.

It was nice to be inside, though. Much nicer being with Vizh than being on her own. The hotel he had arranged was one of the more expensive in the city, and really, there was no need for them to occupy such a palatial suite. He said that it was the least he could do, and that he wanted her to be comfortable. It was certainly that, with its wide sofa and a bath as well as a shower in the bathroom, the endless options for room service. She kept insisting that he didn't have to spend so much for her sake, that he should save his money for making other memories. _There is nothing else that I want to purchase_, he would reply, in one way or the other.

She sipped her tea slowly, sitting in the centre of the deluxe king-size bed that always threatened to swallow her whole. The rain beat against the roof above and upon the windows, and the sound was more soothing than ominous when she was in a place of safety. She closed her eyes for a minute or two to appreciate the peace that reigned, and when she opened them again, without any hurry, her gaze was drawn to Vision's figure, framed by the wide window pane which he stood precisely in the centre of.

More than any force of nature, he was responsible for her sense of deep serenity. It was always better when he was near, of course, but the connection they shared meant that he didn't even have to be in such close proximity to have such a powerful effect upon her.

At this moment she knew that it was not quite the same for him.

"Vizh?"

Her call of his name was soft, undemanding. She demanded nothing more than his wellbeing, placed it above her own.

When he did not respond she moved from the bed, padded over to the window which was streaked with rivulets, running one into another into another. They were all linked, if one would look for long enough.

"Hey," her arms circled his middle and her head rested against the gentle, almost indiscernible curve of his spine. She felt his muscles twitch slightly at her touch, the movement reassuring her greatly. "Is everything okay?"

She could feel him breathing, the gradual turn of his body while her hands remained upon him. His lack of a verbal answer did nothing to appease her; she knew that he found it hard to lie in any circumstance.

She had told him that it was fine to tell little white lies._ It's only human_. As soon as she had spoken the words she felt regret rip through her painfully. She thought of him as being nothing other than human. He had a heart that beat fiercely – she felt it herself, many times, playing a rhythm beneath her fingertips that only she had the privilege to be acquainted with.

He had a soul, purer and more beautiful than belonged to anyone else living in the world.

His mind, which had always been the definition of calm, had become far less so in the last few weeks. Sometimes it was in such disarray that she struggled to read him, at least completely. The confusion and chaos that thrummed within caused him a pain that was close to being physical.

She was causing him to feel this way, and she hated herself for it.

He would say that it wasn't her, of course. But what else could it be? If she had only been more careful and kept a tighter hold of her emotions, they could have remained as they were. A secret, to everyone other than one another. He had always had his insecurities, which in a small part he was entitled to, but their relationship being discovered brought them from below the surface and amplified them to a level that neither of them had counted upon.

"_I love being with you, Wanda, but...__I don't want it to be like this forever," he said, the words faltering with his display of emotion. "That is…if it's possible that…"_

"_We might not have any choice, Vizh." _

_She looked at him, reading the sadness in his eyes and reflecting it in her own. She was used to running, it had been her natural state of being for the best part of her life. It was the exact opposite for Vision. He was designed to be wherever the greatest amount of people – whole cities, or in some cases, countries – needed him. She was turning him into something he was never meant to be. The horror of her actions hit her with force and she couldn't stop herself from crying, even in the crowded coffee shop._

_She needed to get out, though she hated to leave him._

"_Wanda." _

_She turned away from the small sink and the clouded mirror that sat above it in a half-state of shock._

"_You're not supposed to be in here. And you can't put it down to phasing."_

_Luckily there were no other occupants of the facilities, although she couldn't have cared much if there had been. The only thing she was aware of was the way Vision was staring so intensely at her, the blue of his irises appearing yet more brilliant._

"_I did not intend to upset you."_

_She nodded, wiping away the stray tears with her sleeves before they could roll onto her cheeks. "I know."_

"_But...does that mean...that you no longer..." He hung his head, unable to continue._

"_No. No, Vizh." She reached for his hand, the intertwining of their fingers causing him to look up again. "I mean…unless something crazy happens, something that means the world isn't going to be against those of us who didn't comply, we'll always have to be like this. Going from one place to the next. Surviving on these stolen moments."_

_"I understand. It is enough for me, to be with you in whatever way is possible."_

_His expression shifted as he comprehended what she meant, his hand closing around her fingers. _

"_I want more for us," she confided, watching as his face lit up with a wondrous hope, "but I'm too scared to say it. Because if I do then I'm certain that it'll never come true."_

"_Wanda," he whispered her name like a prayer, "you would be safe. I would ensure that you were."_

_The tears came anew to her eyes as she shook her head at his words. They'd talked about this many times before, and she had no wish to argue with him. They were caught between the bright horizon of their dreams and the harsher terrain of reality, which was never without its shadows and had more than enough force to pull them back, making them realise that they had little choice but to continue as they were._

_It was better than nothing, better than hurting inside and out. He had already said that he was unable to stop their rendezvous, even if he had given great thought to it. For her sake more than his own. _

"_You know I can't, Vizh," she replied in a broken voice, barely disguising the emotion that overwhelmed her._

_Maybe one day, if they were lucky enough. _

_He inhaled deeply and exhaled slow, holding both of her hands in his, surely reading the thought she cradled deep within her heart._

"_I am privileged enough as it is. I am aware that you deserve far more than what I am, and yet you never forsake me."_

_The one thing she disliked about him was when he put himself down. In every other respect he was perfect, and the truth was that she was not good enough for him, certainly not the other way around. _

"_Everything about who you are is all that I want." She wondered how many times and in how many different possible ways she would have to tell him that before he really believed the fact to be true. She didn't want him to feel worse, so she kept that thought to herself, which was near impossible in the circumstances._

_He smiled in that gradual way of his, which was far more human than he realised. _

"_We should probably leave."_

"_Oh, yes. We have not paid for our purchases yet."_

"_I meant the bathroom, Vizh." She smiled as he flustered, and then smiled just the same. _

_Much later, when they got back to the hotel after what felt like hours walking the city with its endless amount of side-streets, he curled against her side, making her smile before she succumbed to the sleep that she had craved for most of the day._

"_I don't mind if we stay this way forever," he said in her ear, brushing her hair away from her face, "as long as I have you in my life, I have everything I could ever need."_

He turned to face her fully, making her shift her hands round to his hips. Despite the endless rain a light came in through from the window, bathing him in an ethereal glow that she considered was entirely fitting.

"I was thinking," he responded to the question she had forgotten she had asked.

"You do that too much," she teased him lightly, smiling up at him, her hands stilled upon him despite the impulses that were charging and coursing through her. "Do you want to stay, or can I…?"

"I am fine," he replied, giving her a small smile. His mind was still racing, she could feel it as strong as the pulse that thudded against her veins.

She felt his gaze at her back as she drew the curtains firmly shut. It took some effort; they were really quite heavy. She turned to him with a smile once it was done, finding him seated on the bed, legs and arms stretched out, eyes shut – not tightly, but calm and focused. Centering and shoring up all of his energy to perform the magic trick that always astounded her.

Before her eyes, in the safe shelter of their room, he shed his assumed form and became himself once more. _Her_ Vision. A wonderful and pleasant shiver ran through her as she let her gaze linger upon him; he was so handsome, so perfectly crafted.

The vivid blue of his irises sought her out immediately. He didn't have to ask; she was next to him in an instant, resting on her knees upon the mattress.

Though he was doing his best to assure her that all was well, the static in his mind was still reverberating, causing her own to react empathetically. She reached both hands to cup his face, her thumbs edging the fine ridges upon his skin, doing all she could to soothe his fears.

_It's only the two of us_. She repeated the thought, concentrating fully upon it. _Just you and me._

He relaxed enough to show her a genuine smile, which she returned ardently.

"Thank you."

Her heart skipped in her chest; he was always so sincere and gracious.

"It's okay," she replied.

She kept her voice purposely soft, not wishing to unsettle him further with the emotions that had started up within her yet again. Her fingers continued to stroke the line of his jaw; she was not helping herself by any means.

He was the one to lean forward, stopping to exhale and ask her _"_May I?" She responded with an eager nod of her head, closing her eyes in anticipation and hearing herself murmur her satisfaction as their lips met. The beating of her heart sped up as Vision placed a hand at the small of her back, his touch the right side of tentative, even if she wished in this very moment that he would apply more pressure. It was his nature to be careful and gentle, and of course she adored it, but increasingly she found herself wanting more.

_Craving_ was the most apt of words; sometimes she felt like she might go crazy with the need she had for their sweet kisses to evolve with passion, for innocent touches to turn more searching.

Such desires had been foreign to her until recently, or _not_ considering how long she had been attracted to Vision. Aside from a few misguided kisses with a couple of boys in Sokovia, she'd never been _intimate_ with anyone. Pietro was her bodyguard as well as her brother, warding off any interest that was shown towards her with a speed even quicker than he was capable of moving. Then there were the soldiers and guards who stared too much, making her nervous and ashamed of her own body and the clothes she liked to wear without knowing that they would cause any kind of reaction. She had good right to be suspicious of men.

Vision was unlike any man that existed. She maintained that he was better in every single aspect, every nerve and fibre. Most importantly in thought, in action and in heart.

The fear she had was of herself; that she wanted him too forcefully. As had been the way for a long time with her chaotic magic, she struggled to control the urges she held deep within her heart.

She knew he had heard her as he pulled his lips away from hers, her look towards him filled with longing and frustration, as much as she hated to feel that way.

"I'm sorry," she uttered, breathing as deeply as she could manage in order to steady herself, "I try to tell myself to hold back…but I can't help it."

She was thinking it even now, even as she was ordering herself to cool down.

They had talked about it, in the dead of night and the lighting of the dawn when she fought against sleep for one reason or another. She remembered blushing and stumbling over her words as she asked him whether it was even possible. He had sensed her embarrassment and assured her that he hadn't been quite sure either, at least not until his escalating emotions towards her had awakened him to his capacity to change in such a physical sense. He could change _for_ her. The thought was overwhelming – even after he had confessed it - but made her feel incredibly special, and coming from him imbued it with a purity that could not be matched.

It made her feel a little sordid, right at this very moment.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he replied, with the gentle tone that characterised him so completely.

"But you don't want to," she felt her eyes filling with tears thinking that she could behave in such a manner, and especially towards him, "and it's not fair for me to keep pushing when you're not ready."

He took both of her hands into his, his thumbs tracing over her knuckles.

"You are not pushing. I would like a little more time, that is correct." He smiled at her, softness washing over his expression. "But you should know that it is because of you. That is, because I would like to…"

He was becoming flustered, which made her feel both endeared and guilty.

"Do not doubt that I want you too, Wanda."

His words and the deepening of his voice sent a thousand shivers scattering upon her spine and all of her senses to go haywire.

"If this is about…_research," _she uttered, a little shy in saying it, "then really, Vizh, it's not necessary."

She knew without having to think about it – only to dream – that whatever he did would be more than enough for her, even though she had no experience to draw upon.

"Oh well, there is that," he answered, his eyes darting from her, to the wall and then the ceiling in turn, "but there are other aspects, too. I could attempt to explain them, though it might take a while."

She smiled at him, shaking her head. "You don't have to explain yourself at all."

"I am relieved at that," he replied earnestly. "Would you like to cuddle, instead?"

It was by no means a second-best option, and she signalled her enthusiasm by shucking herself down the bed, her arms going around his middle. The rain outside made the night colder, and she sensed that he was purposely increasing his temperature for her benefit.

Her mouth curved against his chest, clad as it was in a pyjama t-shirt, and she thought – as well as how nice it felt to cuddle close to him - of how much she _needed _him and all of the affection he saw fit to give her, above all of her wants.

Desire could wait a while longer.

She would wait forever, if that is what he needed from her.

* * *

Night was the worst time. More often than not she would dream of terrible things – the destruction she had wreaked in the past, reliving moment by horrific moment in precise detail. The fate that may well be waiting for her in the future, darker than anything she had encountered up to now and what many would argue would come as justice.

Strangely, she never dreamt of the distant past and of all that had been ripped from her. The presence of their parents were black holes in her mind, never filled no matter how much she called out to them.

Whenever she saw Pietro's face it was pale and blank, haunted and frightened. How he must have been in those last moments. So unlike the livewire he was. He was always lifeless when he appeared to her. Aside from his eyes, which were turning blacker every time.

_Sestra. Bud' zi mnoyu. _

He didn't sound like himself. It was as if something was possessing him.

The sound made her want to scream, begging with whichever demon wielding their power to let go of her precious brother.

_Prykhodʹte i zalyshaytesya, sestra._

She could have got in touch with the others. Calls were really meant for emergencies, at least according to Nat, but Sam had said that he could be reached whenever it was needed and Cap was persuadable. The trouble was if she started by saying the smallest thing she wouldn't know where to stop.

Reading distracted her for a short while, before something between the pages made her recall matters that she wished to ignore. If she wasn't too upset she took out the letters she had started upon but almost certainly would never send, knowing that it was too dangerous. She missed Clint. She wanted to know how Laura and the kids were doing, felt somehow that learning of their experiences would make her feel closer to _normal._

She wrote to another little girl, one whom she had never met but felt like she knew just as well as the Barton children, given how Scott had told her everything there was to tell. Cassie had helped them both to stay sane in the hell that was the Raft. A smile came to her face whenever she thought of Scott's daughter. She was her favourite, so Scott had said – after Ant-Man, of course – because she was a girl and could do _really cool things, _like _making everything glow pretty colours_ at the same time as _beating all of the bad guys_. Scott had mentioned that Cassie's bedroom was full of trinkets and without thinking about it she had collected a small souvenir from each country visited for the girl, hoping that she would have the chance to give them over in person one day.

Between her thumb and finger she held the miniature replica of the Eiffel Tower, and as she bent it back and forth out of her view her eyes were drawn to the ring that she wore on the third finger of the same hand. It was the only ring she wore since he had given it to her, a belated birthday present as they couldn't be together on the occasion itself. She had cried on seeing it for the first time, assuring him that he had done nothing wrong in buying it.

Its silver gleamed even in the darkness, the etchings upon the outside settling her disrupted thoughts. The two stones collided in the middle; a silver a little lighter than which the ring itself was made of, next to one which was coloured a rich crimson hue. In certain lights it changed its shade to scarlet. She had supposed that he had it especially made, but he insisted that he had not. It was one of its kind, however, standing alone in a little market stall and he told her that it felt like _fate_, or some similar phenomenon, that he should have come across it.

_It made her happy to talk about Pietro, which was a little strange – she had become so used to associating him with her own grief and anguish, which had not been fair to his memory. _

_It made her happier still to talk about him with Vision, who listened so intently and completely absorbed, asking her questions that had somehow never crossed her mind. _

_Lying next to him in the bed they shared, she could have happily spent all night in conversation with him, staring at him as he formulated his thoughts. _

"_Do you think that he would have liked me, if we had known each other longer?" _

_She felt herself frown at his query, posed innocently._

"_I'm sorry. That is an unfair thing to ask. If I rephrase, perhaps…"_

"_Vizh, don't worry." She lifted a hand to his face, brushing her thumb against the vibranium upon his chin. "You're very different from one another. I think that maybe it would have taken Pietro some time to find common ground."_

"_Would that not have been your welfare?"_

_She smiled, finding it truly beautiful that he instinctively saw the positive side. _

"_In a way, yes. But you would have different ways of showing your concern for my welfare."_

_She would have hoped that Pietro would have been understanding of her attraction to and deep affection for Vision, at the very least becoming accustomed over time. In truth she knew that it would have been yet more difficult for him to come to terms to her falling for a synthetic being, even if they were not fully human themselves._

"_Ah," Vision responded. She noticed a little sorrow coming into his eyes and she chastised herself for thinking what she had, quite so loudly. "I understand, it would be too presumptuous. I would have settled for his tolerance, if not his acceptance."_

_The thought broke her heart, as much as Pietro no longer being alive shattered it into pieces at the beginning of every day. If there was one thing she would have wanted and wished for so deeply it would have been for the two people she cared for most to stand side by side, sharing mutual respect and yet greater emotion._

"_He wouldn't have had a choice," she intoned, seeking out his hand with her own. "No matter that he was the older one, he always knew that I was the one who made the most sense."_

She placed the little Eiffel Tower onto the bedside table, rubbing her fingers over the gemstones before dropping a kiss onto the ring, its metal warm against her lips.

She opened and cleared her mind completely, a sad smile drifting onto her face when she felt his mind tuning in.

_I miss you so much, Vizh._

He answered her immediately, their connection proving especially strong in the quiet night.

_I miss you too. I am alone in the compound, and I do not like how empty it is. It makes me feel as though I am alone in the world, somehow._

His loneliness was infinitely worse to her than her anxiety.

_I wish that I could be with you. If the others wouldn't find out, I'd fly there right away._

Damn these promises, the almost impossible situation that they found themselves in.

_Please do not put yourself or them in danger, Wanda. It isn't too long until we can be together again._

_I'm counting down every minute. I can't wait._

_Neither can I._

She laid her hands over the left side of her chest, hoping it would do something to stop the pain that seared there.

_You must try to get some sleep, Wanda. Exhaustion is a perilous state for you to be in._

_I know. It's difficult though. I keep having bad dreams. _

It would be easier for her to sleep well and peacefully if he was here, but she didn't want to place obligations upon him.

_I have been experimenting lately. I believe that I am getting closer to being able to dream, or at least experiencing a simulation._

_Is there anything you can't do, Vizh? You amaze me._

Even without being able to see him she could picture him becoming bashful.

_What will you dream about first?_

_Oh, I don't know if I can control it. Not if I wish for it to be authentic. Although if my thoughts and subconscious are anything to go by, I imagine that it will be one thing only. Or rather, I should say one person._

The smile stretched across her face, warmth spreading the length of her body.

_Dream of me, Vizh_.

It felt like it would provide some consolation for them both, and it would give her something to focus on other than the fear and endless ticking of the clock. Something very good.

And just maybe if she decided to close her eyes in the next hour or so, she would end up dreaming of him too.

* * *

There was a lot to be said for having a suite big enough to include a kitchen, especially after a long but lovely day spent exploring. While she was changing she could smell the delicious aroma building, her stomach leading her back down the little flight of stairs. Vision looked like a natural, leaning slightly over the stove and taking a careful taste before adding the tiniest amount of the red spice.

She was almost too impatient but it was well worth the wait to be seated, the dish appearing as good as it tasted. He told her that he had been practising, and she answered his eager gaze with muffled moans of appreciation, clearing the plate quickly. The thought flickered into her head of him presenting the paprikash to Stark several times at the compound, and the perplexed look that would have crossed Stark's face. It led her to wonder briefly whether Stark had joined the dots and knew of the real reason for Vision's many trips across the world. Vision surely would have told her by now if that was the case, and so she didn't dwell on the matter. The food was far too amazing to be troubling herself with other ideas.

Despite her offers to help clear away Vision insisted that she stay put, pouring a small measure of wine into a glass. She smiled and raked a hand through her hair; she felt airy enough without the aid of the wine.

Soft music began to play, getting a little louder as he adjusted the volume levels apparently out of nowhere. She watched him move around the space from her seat, very much appreciating the crisp shirt he was wearing along with the dark dress pants that were just tight enough in the right areas. She felt incredibly underdressed in comparison with her t-shirt and sweats.

"A good meal, music…if I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to seduce me, Vizh."

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. Before he could say anything to dissuade the notion her smile encouraged him to think otherwise, his expression noticeably shifting. He inclined his head ever so slightly and gave a shrug of his shoulders, his body language so completely recognisable.

"What can I say," he said smoothly, though she could still hear that adorable stutter breaking through in the shuddering breaths he was taking, "you inspire me."

Her lips quirked at his reply, in the absence of being able to formulate words herself. She could only stare at him, his eyes sparkling and the skin that was just a touch darker than hers flushing as he smiled wider towards her.

The whole room seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them and the beautiful melody of the song that was playing. She'd never known him to listen to music before, but this particular choice fitted him very well.

"Would you care to dance?"

She felt quite close to imploding into millions of minuscule pieces, her heart fluttering wildly as he approached her, reaching his hand out to help pull her from her seat.

"Yes," she answered with a simple half-stolen breath, beaming up at his tall frame while he led her to the centre of the room, never taking his eyes from her.

His hands fit to her waist, while it took her a little longer to decide where to place her arms, her head still hazy. She settled on draping them at his shoulders, her fingertips stroking where hair met skin at the nape of his neck. He guided their gentle swaying with his hands upon her hips and she almost felt as though they were gliding upon the air.

The last time she had danced was with Pietro, when they were very young, probably about six or seven. They didn't do the steps properly, of course, but it hardly mattered when the music played and their parents were watching and clapping along to the beat with proud grins upon their faces. Such happiness that was so fleeting.

She didn't notice as the song ended and faded into another, only feeling nostalgia mixed with sheer joy at this new encounter which she would cherish so tenderly, wishing for nothing more than their dance to go on forever. The safety and comfort she experienced being in Vision's arms was incomparable, absolutely indescribable.

Vision took her hand that he had been holding against his chest and brought it to his lips, his eyes closing while he pressed the kiss to her skin. She closed her eyes for a moment, sighing softly at the caress of his mouth.

"There is one more thing that I want to show you," he said, his mouth curving into a soft smile as he kept hold of her hand until he had to let go, in order to open the doors that led onto the little balcony that was just big enough to allow them to stand side by side, very close together.

"Vizh," she uttered his name as she stared skyward, instantly taken aback at the array of stars that stretched across the horizon.

She could feel his eyes upon her, looking at her with as much wonder as which she beheld the studded sky.

"The forecast was for a clear night, but I had not imagined that the sight would be as astounding as it is."

"It's…beautiful."

For a moment she struggled to find the word in English, with all of the stars filling her eyes and her mind. He placed a hand at the small of her back and his touch sent them surging into her soul, her gaze turning towards him with her breath caught in her throat.

They shared contented smiles, and he directed her attention to the constellations that could be seen amongst the many isolated stars. She smiled as he traced Aquila with an outstretched arm, thinking once more of her dearest brother.

"Pietro and I used to look at the stars," she recalled as though it were only yesterday, "it felt like they were the one thing on our side for so long, keeping us safe when everything was falling apart around us."

Her smile turned wistful; _if only I could have kept him safe when it really mattered. _

"We didn't know the legends behind them until we were older, so we made our own up. I remember being disappointed when I found out what they really were," she laughed lightly, her head craned to take in as much of the incredible sight as she could. "Pietro had such an imagination."

"I am sorry that he is not with you any longer." Vision's voice was edged with genuine sorrow, his palm pressed a little firmer against her back.

She turned her head, smiling towards him. "I wish that he was here, still, but as long as I have the stars," she took in a quivering breath before a profound sense of peace came upon her, "then I have him."

_And I have you too. _

Her mind was open to him – it was very rare that it wasn't – so she knew that he had heard her thought, and the smile that lit his face was so beautiful. She could see something else in his eyes though, an emotion she couldn't quite decipher.

She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers tight.

"I would love for us to be amongst them," she sighed, leaning into him, her other hand resting upon his chest. It was the only way that the night could have been made any more perfect. She missed having the option to soar up high, with Vision close by, always ready to catch her if she should fall.

"One day," he said, so soft and low that she almost didn't hear him.

She knew that he didn't want to get her hopes up. Usually she was realistic about these things, but she couldn't help the magic of the night from affecting her.

She beamed at him, her fingers dancing higher. She hadn't quite curved them around his neck when he dipped down, and she smiled into the kiss as he caught her lips tenderly.

It turned out that she was wrong, and there was indeed room for the night to improve considerably. Every time they kissed a fire started inside of her, the entire universe felt as though it had stilled specifically to celebrate their union. Right now it was like something even greater. She opened up to him, electric shocks jolting throughout her body when his tongue lightly caressed hers.

She was very keen to continue but felt Vision tense beneath her fingers.

He rested his forehead against hers, the Mind Stone burning so hot that it made her wince a little.

"There is so much that I want to say," he said. His fingers smoothed against her hair, a gentler touch she had never felt.

"You don't need to say everything right now," she reassured him.

Her hand was on his chest again, feeling how hard his heart was hammering.

"You…you are amazing, Wanda. As beautiful and as remarkable as the stars that shine above us."

She hid from his intense gaze by closing her eyes; for just a moment it was too much.

"You are so special," he continued, his hands cupping her shoulders, fingertips barely brushing her collarbones as he stretched them out, "and I want this to be special for you. I want everything to be right."

It took her a few seconds to realise that her inclination was true; she didn't want to delve into his mind when he was so vulnerable.

"Vizh, we talked about this," she started softly, "we don't have to do anything. I don't _need _that, not when you're not ready."

"But I am," he answered her quickly; so fast that it made her smile wide. "Ever since the last time we were together, I have been unable to think of little else than being with you in such a manner. The dreams that I have had…"

He didn't expand but she blushed on his behalf, recalling her own dreams vividly, her legs tangling around his waist as he pressed his weight upon her, lips like firebrands sweeping over her throat as she had to gasp at just how good it felt...

He closed his hand around hers, bringing it up to cover the gem set in his head.

"Tell me what you feel." His voice was not like she had heard it before; roughened and with more than a touch of desperation. It caused her heart to jump in excitement.

She held back at first, still feeling as though she would be invading even with his open welcome. His fingers pressed against hers, urging her palm closer, encouraging her to use her powers.

"Longing," she told him, her voice wavering, the scarlet spilling from her fingertips and meeting the Stone, causing the transference to occur to a greater degree, "passion. Desire."

His mouth quirked as she said the last word, pulling her hand down and kissing against the curve of her thumb and then the inside of her palm, causing her to gasp.

_I only feel this with you, because of you, _he told her through their mental connection, not needing to speak the words. _I want you entirely._

Her heart matched his own in the fierceness with which it beat, her head swimming.

_I want you too. I've wanted you for so long, I don't know how I have managed to survive._

Somehow they managed to calm themselves, even if their minds were still humming, feeding off each other. His hands covered the sides of her face and he rocked forward, laying a tender kiss upon the crown of her head.

"In my mind it is all so simple," he uttered as she rested her head against his chest, "I seem to forget that reality is quite a different experience."

She pulled away from his warmth, lifting her gaze to meet with his.

"Vizh, every moment I spend with you is special. Whatever happens isn't going to be any different, trust me." He looked so uncertain, it both broke and healed her heart. "Anyway, it's not just about _me_."

They shared everything, going deeper than anyone else could experience with all that forged their bond. It gave her shivers to even think about them being as close as it was possible for two people to be, knowing already that nothing would compare to the sensation. She wanted him to feel euphoric, to be stronger and more powerful than he could ever imagine possible through all that they felt for one another.

She yearned to feel everything he was capable of being.

"I am honoured enough to be in a relationship with you. For you to desire me the same as I do you…it is more than I can comprehend. Or indeed, believe that I am worthy of."

"Hush," she said, pressing her hands against his torso, her voice gentle but firm. "You can lift Thor's hammer like it's a feather. You and I both know that you're worthy."

He smiled at her before dropping his gaze.

"You're too good to me," she said, swiping her thumb against his cheek.

"You deserve the best, Wanda."

"And I have it," she replied, her eyes holding with his, hand held against his heart, "in you."

She used her grasp on him as leverage, half wondering if anyone would even notice if she levitated. But if he retained his cover then she would too. They poured the depth of their emotion into the kisses they shared, hands following where lips and tongues led with soft but searching touches.

She grasped onto one of his hands as it skimmed tentatively up from her waist, gasping into his mouth as he squeezed her fingers tight.

"Come, miy anhel," she whispered, leading him away from the starlight that framed him in gleaming silver with a gentle pull upon their joined hands, "let us go upstairs."

He didn't phase them there, not while he was still assuming his human form, but she was barely aware of their movements. Too preoccupied with touching, holding onto him, brushing their lips together. She was breathing him in, flying once more.

Her fingers worked of their own accord, she smiled up at him while undoing the buttons of his shirt. He made a low sound when she touched the bare skin of his torso and she had the urge to press her mouth over the places she was skimming with her eager hands.

She was so, so lucky.

"Would you rather I stayed this way?" He looked down at her with some solemnity and utter dedication.

She shook her head, nudging her nose against his. "I want you as my heart knows you." She laid her hand upon his chest, kissing him sweetly, hoping to chase away his doubt. "I want you as you are, always."

His hands cupped her face, returning the kiss deeper. She murmured against his lips, felt only him along with an intense rush surging in her veins.

When she opened her eyes again she grinned helplessly, seeing burgundy contrasted with the silver of the vibranium, covering him head to toe. Vivid and proud and beautiful.

As he had shifted the rest of his clothes had phased away and she could have happily stared in awe for much longer than she did. She remembered how she admired him when he emerged from the cradle, feeling an incredible power possess her which she hadn't been fully aware of at the time.

Everything meant so much more now.

In a swift move she pulled her t-shirt over her head, sending her hair everywhere. The sweatpants slipped away easier. He towered over her, and she kept his gaze as she unclipped her bra, casting it aside.

He stares at her in the same way she had with him moments earlier, but with more reverence in his eyes. His mouth is very slightly open; she feels a thrill course through her in the subtle, unconscious reaction.

It's almost too much for them to process.

"Wanda," he breathes. She feels completely adored in the heat of his gaze. "You are so very beautiful."

She smiles hazily, reaches for his hands to place on her ribs.

"So are you," she utters close against his mouth, mere breath between them before they fall back into slow, languid kisses.

Not quite believing this is real.

Dreams could not be this indescribably wonderful, however.

They're in each other's arms and then on the soft cushion of the bed, the press of skin against skin intoxicating. He's kissing the curve of her jaw and the hollow of her neck and it feels so good that she could cry. She moans instead, says his name in a needy voice.

She has her hands upon him, feels him trembling despite his persistence.

Her right hand slips to his neck, caressing carefully, bringing him to a stop. Eyes meeting eyes, finding solace and safety.

"I don't think that I should be feeling fear, yet I can't seem to stop the impulse."

Her smile is very soft, such are the strokes of her fingertips.

"I'm nervous too, in a good way." This is what she's been wanting for so long, and she hasn't been able to avoid building it up in the playground of her mind. "We'll learn together."

He looks caught between two different worlds, not states of mind. She can feel his thoughts racing as she holds him close to her almost naked form.

"It's okay. We can stop, if you want to stop." She smiles, lets him know that it's more than okay. She only cares about him. "It's a lot. I got carried away."

"It's not...I mean that I..."

She wants to say the words he can't grasp, make it as easy as possible for him. He rests his hand on her hip and then higher, underneath her breast to know the steady beating of her heart against his palm. Now she is the one who cannot stop from shuddering at his feather-light touch, so addictive to her.

"I don't want to stop."

The kiss he gives her, his other hand clasping to her back, tells her how much he wants to go on.

She cradles his face, shifts herself with his hands still holding her, bringing her lips level with his forehead. The Mind Stone is glowing and dimming intermittently and he murmurs when she presses a kiss to it, her fingertips soothing slow strokes from his temples to his cheeks.

Her lips travel a path, kissing his nose and mouth, the latter for a considerable amount of time.

_Miy anhel. Moye svitlo u temryavi. _

She lingers at the juncture of his neck and throat for what she expected might solely be for her own gratification. The sounds he makes increase in volume and frequency, she feels the vibrations against her lips. It thrills her to discover that he experiences such sensitivity - particularly so in certain places where she presses her mouth, teasing slightly with her tongue - and more so that she is the one getting to discover this with him.

Her goal to relax him seems to be fulfilled.

_Ty povernuv mene do zhyttya koly ya dumala_ _vse propalo._

He is so alive, pulsing with heat and energy which she feels in her veins. She works down past his torso, careful to leave no patch of skin untouched, caressing his sides with her fingers. The muscles of his abdomen jump and for a second she's unsure whether his groan is one of discomfort. Her eyes shoot towards him and she is reassured on taking in his expression; she had not seen him look so blissful before.

"Tell me if I should stop."

Her hands laying flat above her head, square upon his chest.

"Please, Wanda," he rasped. His hand rested on her head, stroking her hair, encouraging her to continue.

_Miy Vision. Ya khochu zmusyty vas pochuvatysya yak ya vidchuvayu koly ya dumayu pro tebe. _

She held her breath, still issuing touches as she knelt before him, worshipping at an altar. He had told her that he could change the structure of his body for her, purposefully so. She was flattered, fascinated, overcome and most definitely very pleased. Heaven itself could not match him.

Her experience was non-existent outside of her own anatomy but her instincts led her, as well as the predominant need to please him. She closed her hand gently around him, revelling in how smooth and hard he was. As she began to work slowly, pumping lazily, she felt him twitch and grow in her palm. Her own arousal spiralled further as he moaned helplessly, bucking his hips up into her touch.

Everything about him was entrancing. The ecstasy travelling over his face, the groans tumbling from his throat. She wanted so badly to kiss him, such a selfish urge, but didn't want to stop hearing those most magnificent of sounds. He reached out for her, fumbling, and she grasped onto his hand, pressing her mouth over each of his knuckles in turn.

She could stay like this all night, she was sure, lost in the beauty and wonder of him finding such pleasure. He would not tire and neither would she, not when she could stay with him, immersed in his mind.

_Oh, Vision. Meni duzhe blahoslovennyy. Ty doskonalyy._

She heard him before he tugged on her hand, wrapped his other around her wrist, bringing her to a stop.

"Wanda." His voice was hoarse, affecting her deeply.

"Vizh," she watched with concerned eyes as he sat up, gaze locked with hers, "is something wrong?"

He took her hand in his, his smile still hazy. "No, not at all. That was... I don't have the words to describe. Until now I did not believe that I was capable of experiencing such intense sensations. Thank you."

She beamed, resting her head against his shoulder and tracing her fingers idly against his abdomen.

Many nights previously while they had been lying together they had talked about what might or might not be possible for them, intimately. She always knew that mechanics of biology did not matter, the emotion and connection that existed between them was far more important. Right now, in the heat of the moment, such questions lessened even further in significance.

She was in no doubt whatsoever that anything was possible when it came to them being together.

"I believe I might experience the feelings to a yet greater degree, through bringing you pleasure. I would..." his voice faltered a little, "... very much like to endeavour that."

She knew her eyes were heavy as she looked up at him. In her head she wanted to refuse, insist that the night was about both of them feeling everything together. Given what he was saying, although...

"If that's what you want," she uttered, her hands trailing lower once more, outlining his Adonis belt.

"Oh," he stuttered at the sweep of her fingers, cupping her cheek in his palm, "more than anything."

She shivered at his words, filled with such need and intent that she could read instinctively. He caressed the same few inches of her cheek tenderly and repeatedly, allowing his other hand to move upwards from where it had been moulded to her hip-bone. His touches were experimental, delicate, almost maddening. Her nerves fizzled as he brought his fingers up and down over the side of her torso, she could feel the scarlet crackling beneath the surface of her skin, desperate to escape.

"You react favourably to being touched."

His eloquent and formal language was so sexy when it was uttered in such a tone, thick with desire and yet still wondering, naturally inquisitive.

"Yes," she managed, fighting to hold back the gasps and sighs that were the accompaniment to his deft strokes, "I like it a lot."

Inevitably he inches up further, fits his hand over a breast. She can be restrained no longer, a strangled sound escaping her.

"Vision!" she rasps as he begins to fondle the soft, warm weight. Nobody else has touched her in this way and she knows deep down that she has always desired him to do so, even before he was brought into existence. "Oh, like that… budʹ laska."

They've barely begun and yet she is soaring, set free by his touches, so compliant and dedicated and eager to do anything she wants him to. His thumb brushes her pebbled nipple, hesitant for seconds until he is quite certain that it's what she's after, and she moans as he rubs there, gradually applying more pressure.

She arches back, planting her elbows upon the bed, knowing that she was liable to melt completely beneath his hands without the additional support. She thinks he must have phased his position, legs either side of her hips while she is prone.

"I like it when you kiss me," she utters, staring up at him, seeing the mechanics in his irises turning frantically.

He obliges right away, his lips soft yet wanting upon hers. His fingers still teasing at her breasts – he seems to like touching her there, too – he tugs lightly at her bottom lip, and it's one of the best things she's ever known.

His name falls from her mouth like it's the only thing she can remember as he journeys a similar road upon her body as she had traversed his. Each kiss is considered, he maps her out with no place left undiscovered. If she thought that his hands upon her breasts were like heaven, she was not prepared for the ascension provided by his lips, kissing everywhere, capturing her nipples in turn.

Being out of control has always panicked her, the sensation one she consistently fights against. She welcomes the surrender when it comes to Vision, who cares so much for her, would do everything to protect her. It's a heady feeling, making her head spin in the most fantastic of ways.

His mouth tickles her stomach and she laughs, her hands propped upon his strong shoulders. He smiles against her skin, wreathing more reverent kisses down onto her while his hands dance at the top of her thighs.

The need that has built within her is such that she prises her legs apart instinctively, and he does not need to ask her whether she will allow him to do what he would like to next.

Her whole body and soul is screaming for it.

He asks, paralysed until he has her full consent. She speaks too fast, her answer coming out incoherent at first until she slows her breathing and gives it again. The anticipation may just be killing her and she doesn't want to miss a second.

He draws her underwear down her legs, hands caressing the inside of her thighs and she shudders when they are replaced with his lips, dotting small kisses closer and closer to her core. She feels his adoration for her in each action and tears come to her eyes as fire surges through her, gathering in a tight ball in her stomach.

She is just about to utter his name to plead with him when his tongue meets her right where she is slickest, made that way by her unending desire for him.

Her Vision. Completely hers, as she is his.

Later she would think how surprising it was that she didn't launch herself off the bed and him halfway across the room. She was a captive of euphoria, but she couldn't call herself lost. No, she was only ever found with him. He was teacher as well as student, letting her in on secrets about herself that she had up until now not been able to discover. It wasn't unexpected that he knew of every place she needed attention paid to. Every lick and soft kiss has her moaning and trembling to the centre of her soul, and when he eases his fingers inside of her while his mouth keeps working wonders it is almost enough to tip her over the edge completely.

She does not know what to do other than writhe in delight, gasp out his name inbetween cries and curses in her native language. He takes her hand with the one which is not bringing her to the heights of pleasure, clasping tight to her. It is that, along with his lips closing around the pulsing bundle of nerves that has been yearning to feel him, which breaks down the barriers. Her orgasm is exhilarating, rushing through her like an ocean crashing upon the shore, coming in wave upon wave. She never wants it to end.

Vision guides her through the aftershocks which spark wonderfully through her bloodstream, aware of where she is too sensitive to bear further caresses. Even still she whines with disappointment when his fingers slip from her. He kisses the flat of her stomach in compensation, stroking just around her thighs. He would have gone slow and gentle but she is greedy, pulling him upwards to align them. Hunger quickly bites into the soft kiss, she can taste herself upon his tongue but revels in him most of all, her hands roaming his face.

She cannot get enough of him.

"My predictions were correct," he says cheekily, smiling against her mouth as they exchange quick pecks.

"I'll say," she giggles, still half-breathless, her arms wrapped about his neck, never wanting to let him go. "That was incredible, Vizh."

"I am very happy that I could make you feel that way."

She looks into his eyes, floored by the complete depth of emotion she finds there.

No other man could ever come close, for the rest of all eternity.

He dips his head to kiss the curve of her jaw and slope of her neck, and the logical part of her brain says they should probably wait a little while longer. Every other part of her, especially the aching in the pit of her stomach and between her legs and in the left side of her chest, knows that another minute more will feel like a lifetime.

"I want you now, Vizh," she says into his ear while he is laying kisses upon her cheek, "I want to feel you inside of me."

It has gone way beyond mere wanting, transcending into a need that consumes her completely.

His irises turn and she feels him take in a deep breath as he holds onto her face, his fingertips stroking softly. She hears him asking her if she's sure, if she's really ready, and she answers him without hesitation, her hands a little higher than his hips.

_Are you?_

He kisses her deeply, half of his response.

The second half comes when he draws away, looking into her eyes.

_Yes._

He fills her gradually, almost withdrawing completely on hearing her sharp gasp, seeing her eyes shut tight for a second that must have seemed eternal to him.

"I'm so sorry, Wanda. I don't mean to hurt you."

She can feel him retreat and responds by holding her hands firm against his shoulders, wanting to press him deep against her despite the sting of pain.

"Never," she utters, wearing a smile, "it's okay. I want you so much, Vizh."

He holds still inside of her and she adjusts much quicker than she expected to, the pain fading to the dullest of aches and then transforming into an acute longing. He feels perfect, so much that she can't help but beam up at him, letting him know exactly how good she's feeling and how very right this is. The moment she's been waiting for for so long.

She shifts her hips just so to encourage him to move, and he kisses her softly as he begins to gently thrust within her, all worries and questions cleared away by the stronger force of instinct. She moans against his mouth, rakes her fingers up and down his back. The rhythm they settle into is exquisite and she adores the feeling of him as he surges inside of her, altering his density subtly to comply to her desires. Her legs twine around his waist, needing more of him – all of him – with every second that passes.

He's making noises that play in harmony with her sighs, deep and guttural and unrestrained. They delight her completely, he is the most majestic being. They hold hands while he thrusts into her velvet warmth, whisper words of their pleasure to one another. Her breasts pressed to his torso, feeling the vibranium that runs in lines across his torso brush against her nipples and stomach.

"Wanda," he grits out, searching for her mouth with his own, "I…"

She places her hands firmly against his face, pressing their foreheads together, feeling the imprint of the Mind Stone which is hotter than she has ever felt it, like fire itself.

Her mind was completely open, joining with his which was similarly inviting to her. She wanted to feel everything with him, wanted him to be sure of exactly how she felt about him.

_Miy Vision. Ya lechu…ya padayu…z toboyu._

If anyone awake in the city were to cast their eyes to the sky in that moment they would behold the sight of scarlet and gold swirling in the atmosphere, painting the stars in their brightest hues.

They hold onto one another, held in the deepest bliss for the remainder of the night, sharing kisses and words that speak of the most unbreakable of bonds, forged within the mystery of the universe.

They don't say it aloud, perhaps too fearful of the dawn that might break unannounced and unlike all those that have preceded it, but what they have shared tonight is more than enough to tell them.

The beating of their hearts speak the greatest truth, cradling them as they fall to rest in each other's arms.

* * *

The days and nights went too slowly, even when she tried not to think too much about the space between them, both in time and distance. She made a point of looking to the stars each night before she went to bed, smiling wide when she made out the same constellations, memories simmering in her veins.

If she focused enough, she could feel his arms around her, his voice in her ear lulling her to a peaceful sleep.

The hours and days and weeks were slow but they did go by.

Her head lay upon the soft pillow, her body cocooned by the white sheets. She giggled intermittently, staring at him as he lay facing her, their forms mirror images. Her favourite place in the world to be, though the cities were ever-changing. Her fingers moved slowly, tracing over the fibres and sinews of his arm, then moved to his side and torso. She could spend hours doing precisely this, memorising his body with her fingertips. In particular she loved the contrast between his warm, smooth skin and the vibranium that was cooler to the touch, ran her fingers over the same few places again and again, finding herself comforted and always enthralled.

Vision had his own fascinations with her, too, and was currently weaving the fingers of one hand where he was especially enamoured.

"Nat thinks I should cut it soon. Says it would be a better disguise."

He drew out the strands of her hair between his fingers, pulling ever so lightly, a very pleasant sensation.

"I can't say that I agree with Miss Romanoff." He looked at her as if she were a goddess painted centuries ago, from one of the many paintings they had studied whilst on their travels. "Although of course, your beauty remains the same no matter how you choose to style your hair."

She smiled at his natural charm, shuffling closer to him, her hand pressing against his chest as their lips met.

The morning was fading away. They had spent most of it wrapped up in one another, making love under the covers as sunlight spilled into the hotel room. Time didn't matter, was something for other people to waste as they saw fit.

While they were kissing she had shifted so she was straddling one of his thighs, almost lying on top of him. He held her face, sweeping back the tresses that he loved so much and reverently gazing up at her.

"I have noticed," he began, eyes checking all of her features in turn, "that you sound more like you used to, when you reach your climax."

She felt the blush burnish her cheeks, smiling as it was something she had been aware of too. When she was with him it was more common for her to talk and even think in Sokovian, something she had trained herself to stop doing elsewhere. It just seemed to happen naturally in the presence of Vision.

"I'm most myself when I'm with you," she told him, beaming at the truth of the matter.

He returned her smile, but then sadness crept into his otherwise contented expression.

"I'm still trying to figure out who I am," he said, his fingers still against her cheek, "I know what I was _made _to be, if I cannot fully understand those reasons."

Understandable, as Ultron's intentions could not be further at odds with Vision's nature.

"And then there is the Stone."

She reached down to trace the gem with her fingertips, uncertain herself of everything that it contained but cherishing it for being a fundamental part of him and for giving him life.

"I like to think that I am something more, that it does not define me. But the truth is that I do not know." His eyes turned more sombre. "I don't know if I ever will."

"You are so many things," she told him assuredly, looking at him intently, "you are kind and compassionate, courageous, selfless. You see the good in everything and everyone, which is not an easy thing to do, but it comes naturally to you. You're strong, and fair, and you know what is right."

She took up his hand, placing the palm just above her left breast.

"Ty ye vse," she uttered, her accent pronounced and her eyes heavy with adoration.

Her heart had been hollow and her soul had been broken, but piece by piece he was putting her back together. Not merely restoring her, but making her anew.

He sat up, cradling the back of her head. She moved into his lap as they kissed, his fingers plucking hers and joining their hands. The world outside seemed so far away; they were all that mattered to one another, marking the passage of time with touches, kisses and embraces.

"It's your birthday soon," she remarked, a milestone that did stand out to her, "how would you like to celebrate?"

He skimmed his hand down her back, causing goosepimples to rise on her skin.

"I would like it if we could stay in bed," he said, completely deadpan, but the smirk that followed his words spoke loud and clear.

"Vizh!" she exclaimed, leaning in closer to him, feeling clearly his body's reaction to her. "What have I turned you into?"

She was teasing but he smiled at her genuinely, fitting his palms around her hip-bones.

"You have made me what I have always strived to be, Wanda."

Her heart swelled so much she thought it might honestly jump from her chest. When she thought she couldn't love him anymore than she already did...

Because she does love him, deeply and truly. She always has, and she always will, whoever or whatever should try to come between them.

They would have an almighty battle on their hands.

"I can't take all of the credit," she uttered once she had recovered, arms looping around his neck.

She swore that he could see into her very soul, his eyes not straying from her for a second, his hands bringing her nearer as her head dipped down towards his. It was nice to be the taller one for once, although it didn't really matter too much when they were melting into one.

Time, love, him. _Always_. There could never be enough.

She shifted her hips forward and they sighed together, affirming their dedication to one another once more, allowing the rest of the world to slip away for just a little longer.

* * *

They returned from being scattered across Europe and reconvened every two months or so, sometimes a little longer. The warehouse was sparse, with nothing to recommend it other than its location – entirely off the radar. It also made a good place to train, which Cap was insistent they still do. They needed to be ready for any eventuality; being complacent was not an option.

Most of the time she was paired with Nat, until she complained that she wouldn't be properly prepared if she only fought against other women.

She was up against Sam, trying to track him as he swooped, expertly avoiding all of her shots. The sun was streaming through the gaps in the roof panels, making her squint.

From behind her and high above she could hear Cap encouraging her, telling her to keep her focus.

Nothing was making a difference; he was too fast for her, shifting through the air, a blur before her eyes. She heard laughter, Sam flaunting his victory.

"Don't lose it, Wanda! You got this!"

_I believe in you._

She flung her head up, swearing that she could perceive Vision. His voice, at the very least.

Red kindled and in the next second burst in explosions from her hands, hitting the eaves and ricocheting. She was focused on creating more, causing a storm, so absorbed that she was oblivious to Sam's cries and being flat-out on the floor until the whole place was pulsing with scarlet energy.

"I think that's enough, Wanda," Cap called down to her, snapping her senses back into place.

The familiar horror washed over her – she'd never get rid of the sensation completely, not even in training situations. It was easy to forget how powerful her capabilities could be.

It took a few long seconds before Sam accepted the hand she reached out to him, perhaps fearful that she hadn't quite finished, that she still had some left-over chaotic magic hiding beneath her fingertips.

Cap told them to walk it off, so she headed out into the parched field. It was too hot, the air that should have come as a relief too tight and tense, doing nothing to aid the ache that filled her chest. The horizon stretched out for miles past her eyes and beyond, but for a space that felt so vast and unending it was strangely claustrophobic too.

She wondered whether if she screamed it would make any sound at all.

Sam joined her after a little while, saying nothing at first. She quickly shut off her mind, which had been in the process of searching desperately, occupied with the need to pick up a signal. She had the feeling that he wasn't where she expected him to be, back at the compound, and it was making her too frantic.

"For a while there I wasn't sure that we were on the same side."

She smiled weakly at him, not fully present but trying her best to focus. "Sorry. I get…carried away."

"Hey, no worries. I'm flattered that you were giving me your best shot." His smile was easy. "If we do have to go up against something soon then they're not going to last more than ten seconds with you and all that crazy…I don't know what to call it. A force of super nature."

"I don't know," she returned, throwing a side glance, "maybe I could, but I wouldn't want to do it on my own."

Having them all rely on her to do the job by herself. It was a responsibility she didn't want to carry upon her shoulders.

"It wouldn't come to that. We've got your back, Red."

Her smile came easier and she felt better, despite the voice at the back of her head telling her not to give in so easily.

"Do you miss it? How it was." Her words faltered slightly as she thought of the compound, seeming so far away and out of reach.

Sam looked out into the distance, almost like he was trying to reach for it too.

"I sure slept a lot better. Ate better, too." She watched his expression as it curved into a smile that was in some small part wistful. "And it's weird, but the more people there were to whoop my ass the less humiliated I felt."

She laughed at that, remembering the old sessions, the beginning of everything when the battle was done, only in the physical sense.

"At the start there wasn't one day where I didn't want to run away. Not one. I thought about it every night, got myself ready to do it a couple of times. I'm not sure whether it was knowing that I didn't have a plan or anywhere to go that stopped me, or the fact that I'd made a promise."

It was strange to become the very thing that you'd fought against for so long. Something you believed in your bones that you hated. It hadn't been their fault, indoctrination was all they were used to.

She remembered when it was the two of them against the world, when they were the world to each other.

_Pietro_.

"I owed it to him. That he wasn't there meant that I had to be better for the both of us. And it got better, day by day. Somehow so that I didn't even feel it happening."

She had felt guilty for smiling or laughing, enjoying herself by watching a movie or playing guitar. Being in conversation. Stopping by Vision's room so much that she might as well have moved in.

"It was all so simple." She sighed heavily, thinking of how childish she had been.

"We have habits," Sam began, breaking the little silence that had fallen, "looking back and seeing things differently to how they really were. It's a way of coping."

She turned her head, looked at him intently.

"Not that I'm saying this is easy. We spend our time going here and there, and trying to hide, but we can't deny it. We're Avengers. And if they come for us, I'm not going to stay in the shadows."

As a shiver coursed her body she found herself raising her head, standing up straighter. She knew that she would do the same.

"But that might not even happen," he countered his previous thought, "at least not any time soon."

Half of her wished that she was able to predict it, thinking it would be better if they could prepare. She'd resigned herself to spending the rest of her life this way, wanting a version of life that could never really be.

"There are ways and means," he stated, and she could see the glint in his eye. "How is Vision?"

Heat surged in her head, distinct from the humid conditions they found themselves in. She didn't know why she expected him not to ask. She forgot sometimes that they knew, so used to thinking only in terms of the two of them and their own private existence.

"He's good. He's great, actually." She felt her cheeks puffing out, not doing enough justice in such an outward gesture to convey the fluttering of her heart at the mere mention of Vision's name.

Sam was smiling back at her, letting her know that he could tell. Things had been different ever since she started meeting Vision, the first time so unexpected.

"I don't think I could have got this far if it wasn't for him." He gave her a look as if to say _'gee, thanks,'_ and she scoffed, gazing intently at the ground. "Come on, you know you guys mean everything to me. But Vizh…I can't explain what we are to each other. The way I am, I never thought that anyone other than Pietro would care so much about me."

She still couldn't grasp it, really. It overwhelmed her every time she thought of it. Love and devotion in abundance. It seemed to be all that he was comprised of.

"Sorry, you don't need to hear this," she said, tucking her hair self-consciously behind her ear, feeling herself burning.

"It's better than hearing the alternative," Sam replied, still wearing a smile. His arms folded themselves against his chest as he paused. "I feel a little responsible here, being older than the both of you. Just tell me we don't have to have _the talk_."

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed. Right now she really just wanted the ground to open and swallow her, but Sam's stare wouldn't let her get away. She twisted the rings upon her fingers, pulled her sleeves past her hands to cover them. "No," she finally said, mumbling the single word slightly.

For a few moments it felt worse than if Pietro were still here to interrogate her on the subject.

"You're being _careful_, right? That's all I want to know."

"Um, if you're talking about what I think you are, then that's not going to happen, so really, it's fine."

She felt like a child again, guileless and perhaps naïve, but in truth she hadn't considered the consequences as she didn't believe there would be any. She was also still finding it hard to believe that Sam was the one going through all of this, rather than Cap. Yet that would have also been a million times more awkward.

"You're extraordinary beings. Stranger things have happened."

"Okay, well, thanks for that," she murmured, wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible. "You know I'm not going to switch sides, right? I wouldn't do that."

He smiled, as though it was all so easy. "Maybe it won't come to that."

She hoped not. She was loyal, that was true, and not one to go back on her word. But if she had to surrender someone, make a choice between them all, she would choose Vision every time.

"Look, I know you don't like to be called it, but you're the baby of the bunch. I still think about my first love. Hell, I might even admit to still being a little hung up on her."

She smiled at his admission, while considering that Vision was not just her _first_ love.

He was her only.

"What I'm trying to say," he continued, "is that you deserve this. No matter about Cap or Stark, or anything else. Maybe it sounds too simple but you should just enjoy it. Worry about everything else later. Or never at all."

She closed her fingers around the ring that Vision had given her, smiling at Sam and then casting her gaze further out, letting her mind open as delicately as a flower unfurling its petals towards the sun. She thought she could feel him somewhere around the edges, stronger than before but still not enough to satisfy her.

She shouldn't worry, should take Sam's advice. Maybe that was what was causing the interference. When the sun went down she'd find him properly and they'd talk until the dawn lightened the sky once more, gaining some fulfilment until the next time they could be together in person.

"I have questions, but I don't know if I want to ask them."

She turned to look at him again, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Go on," she laughed.

"What does he do to make himself look like…a regular dude? Do you have some hand in it, doing all the things you can do?"

She chuckled, shaking her head in the negative. "It's all Vision. And I can't explain it, he just…knows how."

He nodded his head in approval, though she could see that he was still perplexed.

"I'm gonna leave it there," he said after a few more moments spent pondering. "I mean, if it works, then that's the main thing."

A smile spread across her face as she let the words sink in. "It works. Believe me."

Nothing worked better.

"I've got your back, Red. That goes for the both of you."

She nodded in a gesture of thanks, watching Sam as he pushed off from the fence and started to stroll back towards the warehouse, holding his left hand to his right arm.

"Hey, Sam," she called out to him after a few moments, straightening her spine, "you ready for another round?"

He flashed a smile back to her.

"If you give me a head start, then maybe."

* * *

The water is near to scalding as it cascades from her shoulders down her back, the sound of the spray hammering against the porcelain all she can hear and the steam that is quickly filling the room all she can see when she chooses to open her eyes. It's tempting to just stand there, turning her body every five minutes, but she eventually caves and reaches for the bottle of shampoo, lathering up her hair, absent-mindedly thinking that perhaps she should dye it fresh before the next time.

As she rinses off the conditioner her mind hops to the thought that they could still be in bed right now. There was no particular reason for them not to be, but they had tried to limit themselves to no more than two completely lazy days on each trip. She rolls her neck and sighs, feeling the sweep of his fingers running down her spine, tickling along with the spray of the water as they work their way to her stomach.

She arches her back into the invisible touch, so accustomed to his arms wrapping around her that it's like a second skin.

It's all so vivid to her, the sensations, the dream that comes back to her most nights. Except she doesn't believe that it's a _dream_, not when it feels real enough that it could be as simple as walking into the next room. She should be more worried than she is, wearing her heart out on such an impossibility.

But isn't the fact that nothing is truly impossible?

She closes her eyes and lets it wash over her again, as consuming as the water that is pouring upon her body. Vision and herself and a house rather than a series of hotels. A house with a garden framed by flowers, so many different kinds of them. The smell of freshly baked bread, music on a record player. Lie-ins and kissing and so much laughter.

It's not only the two of them. There are faces that she can't see but voices that she can hear. Small and sweet voices, babbling in a jumble of English and Sokovian. They make her heart hurt with so much love as they laugh and call out to her, to both of them in what sounds like the most perfect of melodies.

Her footsteps are silent, trailing spots of water that slowly fade to nothing as she walks back into the bedroom. He's sitting in the armchair near the end of the bed, wearing a robe that wasn't made for someone with such long limbs, sunlight shining on one half of his face and making his hair gleam gold.

She beams at the sight of him, everything she could have possibly dreamed of.

"I was waiting for you to join me in there," she says, low and sultry, the towel that she doesn't know why she bothered pinning to herself slipping just slightly as she climbs into his lap.

Her seductive tone falls away when her gaze focuses upon the tight expression upon his face, feeling that something is wrong.

"Vizh?" she questions softly, her hands upon his shoulders. "What is it?"

"It's…" he stumbled, wincing through pain. She slipped her hands to his face, stroking her thumbs against his cheeks. "I've been getting these aches in my head. They don't last very long but they're…"

Unable to finish his sentence he looked up at her, discomfort still visible.

"I didn't want to worry you," he uttered, a mournful and apologetic look in his eyes.

"But I will," she replied, cradling his face, searching for any invisible signs that she hoped and prayed that she would not find. "We should get you back, I'll check the train times."

She tries to shift to get her phone, but his hands upon her waist keep her anchored.

"It's fine."

She frowns at his argument, even if his arms encircling her are persuasive. "Do you think that it's the Stone?"

He nods, and she trails up one of her hands gently, slowly, caressing the gem embedded in his forehead, fear sinking into her bones which she is trying desperately to chase away. A low groan leaves his throat and she focuses her attention on him, nothing else.

"I think you should go back," she repeats again, as much as it pains her to cut short their time together, "maybe Stark can do something, tap into it."

"We have two more days left," he counters, placing a warm hand flat upon her back.

"And I don't want to spend them scared to death that something bad is going to happen to you!"

His mouth curves, even while she's sounding like a crazy woman.

"I'm sorry, Vizh, I just…I just don't want anything that can't be prevented to happen to you." She looks at him intently, her hand fitted against his cheek. "And I don't want you to be in pain."

The spark upon his lips transforms into a soft smile, he curls his fingers around hers, moving her hand down slightly so that he can kiss the heel of it before pressing it back against his cheek.

"I feel better when I'm with you."

The conversation they'd had only hours ago replayed in her mind. He'd told her that he intended to turn the transponder that tracked his whereabouts off on their next trip. Despite everything she was a little taken aback and asked whether he'd thought it through. In the darkness she could tell that he was hurt, and had quickly reached for him, pressing a kiss to his mouth to apologise.

"_There is nothing to think about. I want to keep you safe, and concealing my location is the best way to ensure that."_

She knew there was more to the decision. The night before, they had lay together, holding each other long after they had made love, her body curving into his. His breath was soft against the back of her neck and she reached for his hand, bringing both of them to rest against her sternum. She wanted to stay forever, so happy that she couldn't even cry about the fact that they couldn't.

_Where would you like to go next?_ he asked her silently, fingers combing through her hair.

_Somewhere far away, where we can be like this. _

She smiled at the possibility.

_Somewhere so far away, where nobody would ever find us._

The sorrow set in slowly, the longer she allowed herself to daydream.

_But they always will. _

Guilt rose within her, knowing that he would do anything for her. Of course she would do the same for him, and if their positions were switched and she wasn't a fugitive then she would have flicked the switch long ago. The one thing that she wasn't prepared to do was to put him in danger.

It was his choice, and it was important for him to make it without her trying to influence him one way or another. If something did happen then she could call on Cap, Nat and Sam to help.

Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

She brought his lips to hers for a kiss, resting her forehead upon his once they break apart. Her hair is still damp and droplets fall down, cushioned by the fabric of his robe.

The guide book on the edge of the bed catches her eye and she laughs, reaching out to grab it without leaving his grasp completely.

"This is going back to basics," she smiles at him, flicking the pages between finger and thumb, not looking for anything in particular.

He has her undivided attention, especially when he looks and smiles at her like that, setting fire to every nerve in her body.

"I thought that it might make a good change," his arms circle her waist while she rests back into the crook of his shoulder, "I imagine there's a lot to be discovered that isn't listed, but it will be somewhere to start."

She hums in agreement, turning her head to press a kiss against his neck.

"It looks beautiful, Vizh."

Edinburgh. It sounded gorgeous too, particularly when he said the name.

"I can't wait to explore with you. But we still have places to see here. Anything in mind?"

She felt his shrug against her, his hands at her hips. "Whatever you would like."

She smiles, thinking that it's best to stay close. The drips from her hair are starting to annoy her and as snug and comfortable as she is, she has to take care of it.

"Wanda?" His voice calls her back before she can go very far, and she pads back towards him, taking the hand that he has extended with her own. "Are you happy?"

The beating of her heart is enough to answer but she has to say the words. Just thinking isn't enough, not when he's looking at her with wide eyes, as though she might possibly give a reply that he doesn't want.

"So happy," she says, and means it with everything she has. She lets go of his hand only so she can cradle his face again. "I'm the happiest I've ever been. At least until we get to Edinburgh."

She tried not to look too far ahead, limiting herself only as far as tomorrow. Once upon a time that was the most incredible of achievements. Her mother's voice, faded like a love-worn memory but still strong enough, comes into her head and hearing it now, while she's with Vision, gives her such an overwhelming feeling. Solidifying everything she knows to be the truth within her heart and soul.

_Miy solodkyy _– she hears her as clear as if she were a child again, before the world started to turn to ashes and dust - _zavtra zavzhdy prykhodytʹ._

He helps her to dry her hair and wraps his robe around her to stop her from getting cold, not before laying several kisses in the space between her shoulder blades. The feel of his mouth pressed to her skin makes her want to take him back to bed, but somehow she resists and together they start to make other plans. Memories that will stay long after they say prolonged goodbyes at the train station, his arms around her and her head pressed to his chest, neither one of them wanting to let go.

She finds herself more hopeful, and for now she thinks it only right to hold onto that hope when the world outside is so bright, welcoming them with open arms.

There will come a day, she thinks, and when he smiles down at her and holds her hand tighter, she knows that he hears what she's thinking and wants the very same.

A day when there will be no more goodbyes, when only forever lies ahead.

Until then they'll go on with what they have, knowing that something more will come to them eventually.

All they need is a little more time.

* * *

**A/N: Ukrainian to English translations as follows (apologies to any native Ukrainian speakers for butchering your language via Google Translate):**

**_Sestra. Bud' zi mnoyu = _Sister. Be with me**

** _Prykhodʹte i zalyshaytesya, sestra = _Come and stay, sister**

**_Miy anhel. Moye svitlo u temryavi = _My angel. My light in darkness.**

**_Ty povernuv mene do zhyttya koly ya dumala_ _vse propalo = _You brought me back to life when I thought everything was gone**

**_Miy Vision. Ya khochu zmusyty vas pochuvatysya yak ya vidchuvayu koly ya dumayu pro tebe = _My Vision. I want to make you feel like I feel when I think about you**

**_Oh, Vision. Meni duzhe blahoslovennyy. Ty doskonalyy = _Oh, Vision. I am very blessed. You are perfect.**

**_budʹ laska = _please**

**_Miy Vision. Ya lechu…ya padayu…z toboyu. _= My Vision. I'm flying…I fall…with you**

** _Ty ye vse = _You are everything**

**_Miy solodkyy, __zavtra zavzhdy prykhodytʹ = _My sweet, tomorrow always comes**

**There may be more in store, I'm going to see what Endgame brings first... (let's pray we all get through it not too emotionally damaged) and then of course there's the ScarletVision TV series (the prospect of which is both hugely exciting and utterly terrifying)! Neither will probably be the fluff-fest I'm after, so...**

**Also I can't keep from picturing Cassie Lang as flower girl at a certain wedding, ahem...(I love Cassie a lot) **


End file.
